Resurfacing in the River
by RiverAmeliaSong
Summary: "And the best part is that while his wife is wasting away in prison to keep up his façade, an old ally has revealed his little game. And now, the darling child that was raised and conditioned to kill him—his wife—is alone and helpless. You are at my mercy, yet again, and we both know which of us always wins. I created you Melody Pond and I can break you just as easily."
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All rights belong to the BBC, Steven Moffat, and anyone else who may lay claim to the wonder that is Doctor Who. All I can claim is the storyline, and as I tried to tie it in with Moffat's, I can't even claim all of that. So please don't sue me! I'm already broke._

_Pairing: River/Eleven, Amy/Rory, and some River/Ten may surface, depending on how this goes. _

_Continuity: This is meant to take place sometime after The Wedding of River Song but before Angels Take Manhattan—basically, during River's final days at Stormcage Containment Facility and just before her release. _

_Author's Note: By the way, if there are any continuity or technical mistakes, please just let me know. I really want this story to stick to canon as much as possible and any help with that would be more than appreciated. Thanks! And please let me know if anyone out there finds this even remotely interesting. :)_

_Also, one last thing then I'll shut up and carry on with the story. This story is rated M for more reasons than one, including language, adult situations, and descriptions of torture. If that kind of stuff bothers you, please don't read. Otherwise, please enjoy and reviews are always incredibly helpful! *Hint*Hint*Nudge*Nudge* :)_

* * *

"Aha!" the Doctor exclaimed suddenly, snatching the psychic paper from his inner breast pocket. "We've got a live one!"

"What is it?" Amy asked excitedly, bounding up to the console as the Doctor whipped the case open and began to read. "Is it ancient Egypt? Tell me it's ancient Egypt. Maybe an invasion of the bubble aliens or something in ancient Egypt—nothing too intimidating today, of course, I haven't had any coffee yet."

"Why the penchant for ancient Egypt, Pond?" the Doctor asked with a raised brow, looking down at her from the psychic paper. "Haven't you seen quite enough of it already, Mrs. Oh River Let's Redecorate The Pyramids?"

"Actually, I think that that was all River's doing," Rory corrected, coming to stand beside them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stood there with a mug of coffee and still in his dressing gown.

"She's a good girl," Amy defended, glaring icepicks into both of them. "_And _she's the only one that got to meet Cleopatra! Come on, I loved the ancient Egyptians in school, let's have a go."

"Later, perhaps," the Doctor grinned, looking back to the psychic paper with a gleam in his eye that the in-laws were not necessarily meant to see. He tapped in the coordinates expertly and threw a gear forward, throwing the TARDIS into motion. "First, we're going to pick up your daughter."

"What?" Amy asked, snatching the psychic paper from his hand and dancing away from him as he fought to take it back.

"Amy, no, you…," he insisted, but Amy silenced him with a look.

The Doctor leaned back against the console, grimacing nervously and straightening his bow tie, his eyes darting between Amy and Rory as he swallowed hard, not certain which parent-in-law made him most nervous.

_Hello Sweetie, _she read silently, wisely angling it out of Rory's view as he tried to read over her shoulder. _I think it's time for a date, so come and pick me up. I'll be in my cell, the coordinates and time are below. If my parents are with you…well, let's go somewhere where they won't mind being on their own for the night. I really need…. _

Amy stopped reading then and grinned at her daughter's _delicate _choice of words before tossing the paper back at the Doctor's chest.

"Oh, wipe the look off your stupid face, I didn't finish reading it," Amy said, purposefully ignoring Rory's pointedly questioning glare. "Best hurry along then, hadn't you? Don't you dare be late picking my daughter up for a date!" She leaned forward close enough to whisper quietly so that only the Doctor would hear. "By the way, we wouldn't mind spending the night on our own in ancient Egypt."

The Doctor cleared his throat, blushing from his collar to his ears, and hopped away from Amy's knowing grin but specifically avoided Rory's general area.

"Righto, Pond," the Doctor smiled happily, bringing the TARDIS to a park, leaving the breaks on, as always. He circled the console, fidgeting with controls to look busy and occupied until he was out of their line of sight, and then bent down to check his reflection in one of the metallic surfaces. He licked his fingers and smoothed back his quiff, gave a quick breath check, then….

"River's waiting," Rory suddenly said from behind him and the Doctor turned to stand straight, finding himself almost nose-to-nose with Rory.

He grinned happily and patted Rory's cheek before leaping over the railing and onto the base floor below. "Be back in a mo', Ponds!"

He darted to the TARDIS door and flung it open grandly, sticking his head out first to check that the coast was clear, but the sight that met his eyes brought the elation that he had been feeling crashing down around him. Silently, he stepped out of the door and closed it slowly behind him.

He was in the corridor, directly across from River's cell, but there was no River. The heavy iron-barred door was standing wide open and the last light bulb that illuminated her cell was flickering rapidly, the others having all gone out. The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket, tucking the psychic paper in its place, knocked out the security cameras and then scanned the front cage of the cell. There were no signs of the residue that her vortex manipulator would have left.

"River," he muttered under his breath, not actually expected an answer. "What are you doing, my River?"

He could feel both hearts clenching painfully in his chest and the breath froze in his lungs as he stepped forward and passed through the iron bars and into River's cell. In the flickering light of the bulb he could now see what he had not at first glance. The few personal items that River possessed were strewn about the floor. Books lay splattered face-down on the concrete floor, pages were torn out and lying detached from their bindings, articles of clothing were hanging messily from the small metal table that stood bolted to the floor, her bookshelf, and her bed railings, and the bed clothes had been stripped from the mattress and thrown about as well, and the mattress itself had been thrown up against the wall.

"River," he muttered again, moving towards the bed.

His mind had turned to her diary. River's diary. He did not know who had done this or what they had been looking for, but _no one _should ever get their hands on River's diary. He shoved the mattress aside and tossed a pillow to the floor, looking for the brilliant flash of blue.

"Come on, River, where do you hide it?" he muttered, glancing back to the TARDIS doors to ensure that Amy and Rory were not venturing out. He dropped to his knees and searched the underneath, but to no avail. "Come on, River, you're clever! Where do clever girls hide their diaries?" he asked himself, forcing his mind to ignore the hiding places that he would choose and instead, think like River.

His eyes fell onto the empty bookshelf and he sighed slightly before grabbing at it and examining it carefully, scanning it with his screwdriver. It was bolted to the floor—impossible to move for most prisoners—but his wife was hardly 'most prisoners.' He leaned down until his face was parallel with the floor and shined the light of his screwdriver through the miniscule crack between the base of the bookshelf and the floor. He could just barely see a strip of blue.

"That's my girl," he breathed and began feeling the bookshelf again, searching for a button, or lever, or any spot where it gave against it bolts even the slightest bit.

Growing frustrated in his worry for River, he smacked his fist down hard on the top of the metal shelf, stepping forward slightly. At first, he was not certain that he had even felt it, but he snapped his attention to the toe of his shoe and pressed the area of floor with his toe. The cement gave way and wobbled under his foot, but the area around it was seamless, blending into the floor perfectly. Pressing one end with his toe, the Doctor stooped down and lifted the other end that rose from the ground, revealing a small space just beside the base of the bookshelf. He reached in and felt around and his fingers finally closed on the weathered binding of River's diary and he pulled it out, pressing it to his lips, and running his fingers over the TARDIS shaped engraving on the front.

"River," he muttered again, pressing the book to his forehead and closing his eyes tightly. The pain in his chest was beginning to feel as though it may tear him in two. "You didn't say anything about an emergency in your note, so why call me here? How am I to find you?"

He opened his eyes to look over the ransacked cell once more and his gaze caught on something when the flickering light hit it. On floor, just at the corner where the cell door met the concrete, was an area of discolouration no bigger than his hand. Tucking the diary into his pocket, the Doctor bent double and moved to the spot, dropping to his knees when he reached it. Immediately, he knew the deep red puddle for what it was and scanned it with his screwdriver, his hearts sinking into his stomach. His mind all but went blank at the sight of River's familiar DNA string—human plus timelord—when it came up on the screwdriver's small screen.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, he reached his fingers forward to touch the puddle and the liquid was cool on his fingertips, but still liquid—not yet dried into a solid. Recent. The blood was recent and the very knowledge of that had his own blood boiling in his hearts. Shooting to his feet, the Doctor rushed for the door of the TARDIS, but then suddenly stepped on something very small in the corridor. His mind screaming to ignore it, but his subconscious stopping him anyways, the Doctor looked down to see a small golden tube peeking out from beneath his boot. He picked it up and squeezed it in his fist, pressing it and the screwdriver to his forehead angrily as he struggled for control of himself.

With an angry shout, he burst back through the door of the TARDIS and flew to the console.

"Doctor?" he heard Amy ask, but he did not answer. "Doctor, what's wrong? Doctor?"

Flipping open the TARDIS's bio scanner, he shoved his hand inside, letting her analyze River's blood on his fingertips, hoping that perhaps the DNA of her abductor may somehow have mingled, though he did not want to think on how—he just needed a place to start. The scan came up empty and the Doctor kicked the railing behind him violently, snatching his hand away. He had to get them out of there. They had to find her, but he could not sit outside of her cell where it had happened.

"Doctor, what's the matter? You haven't told us where we're going," Amy protested, now on his heels as she followed him around the console, expertly evading his arms and elbows as he threw gears and switched controls agitatedly. "Where is River? I thought we were picking her up."

"She wasn't there," the Doctor answered, his tone as flat and emotionless as his expression.

"What do you mean she wasn't there?" Rory asked, slowly stepping forward to stand behind Amy, his brows furrowing with concern. "She sent you a message on the psychic paper to pick her up. Why would she leave?"

"Well, maybe you just got the date wrong," Amy suggested, reaching to pull the monitor towards her.

"I didn't get the date wrong!" the Doctor shouted, snatching the monitor back, the anxiety and fear and rage seeping through his calm demeanor. He checked himself at Amy's affronted expression and forced himself to speak more calmly. "I've checked it several times. We arrived at River's cell at the proper date and time."

"Well then why isn't she there?" Rory asked again, moving forward and fixing the Doctor with the penetrating gaze of a concerned father. "It isn't like River to not be there when she calls you. Why would she leave?"

"She didn't," the Doctor answered, his words measured and careful, fearing not only their reactions but his own once he acknowledged the truth in spoken words. "Her cell was torn to pieces. She's not at Stormcage, but she did not leave of her own free will."


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, the usual disclaimers still apply. SPOILERS! If you haven't seen Silence in the Library, Forest of the Dead, The Wedding of River Song, Let's Kill Hitler, or A Good Man Goes to War, you may not want to read this until you have. Just giving a fair warning—I don't give away too many spoilers, but things are mentioned and characters do pop up. Oh, yeah spoilers for The Wedding of River Song in the last episode, by the way—bit late, but it's the thought that counts.  
_

_And, lastly, then I'll shut up and carry on, if anyone that reads this has any kind of constructive criticism for me, please…I welcome and request it. One's writing can never improve without it. :) Thank you and I'll shut up now._

_I lied. One more thing, I just want to say thank you to Nicole and Lorien for your kind reviews of the previous chapter. They were both vastly encouraging and put me in a happy-mood! :)_

* * *

"So, what do you want to listen to today, Doctor Song?" Anita asked as River stooped down to unlace her boots, peel away her socks, and place them against the concrete walls.

"Ooh, I don't know," River replied, turning the knob on the shower wall to its highest temperature before dropping her prison-issued jogging pants and panties over her hips and down to her ankles. "Surprise me. Whatever you need to study for your next exam."

Anita let out a good-natured chuckle. "Actually, I've just taken my last exam. I'm just reading ahead in my textbook for this upcoming semester."

"You sound like me when I was at Luna University," River replied, pulling off her tank top and sports bra and dropping them on the ground alongside her other clothing. "The annoying over-achiever that the other students like on a social basis, but hate in the classroom. But first semester of university over and done. Congratulations! How do you think you did?"

"I think it went fairly well. My professors were really good and they seemed to like me. At least, I haven't heard anything bad from any of them yet," Anita replied, peering at the screen of her communicator before shoving it into a pocket.

"I believe that you mentioned a Professor Candy once," River said, stepping beneath the stream of steamy water.

"Yeah, he's my advisor," Anita answered with a grin. "I'm studying history, but he's kind of pushing me to consider archeology. He says that I remind him of his 'protégé' and that he thinks that I'd do really well in it."

"Yes, that sounds like Professor Candy," River replied, leaning her neck back to let the water wash over her curls, plastering them against her neck and shoulders. "Always recruiting the clever and promising to his own area of expertise. But the man knows his field and he has only the best of intentions for archeology. That's why he wants only the best to study it with him."

"You know him?" Anita grinned widely, her metal chair scraping against the cement floor as she turned to face River. "You know Professor Candy? Did he teach you when you were at Luna?"

"Say 'hello' to the 'protégé'," River grinned, meeting the girl's wide-eyed gaze.

Anita leaned forward onto her knees and her jaw dropped. "No way!"

"I received my Doctorate in Archeology from Luna University," River answered, smirking at Anita's fascination. "He visits me on every visitation day and he brings the artifacts that he finds for us to study, he brings me the latest journals and studies in archeology, I am his collaborating professional in the field, and he has me proofread all of his works and those of other archeologists. Haven't you ever wondered why I'm called _Doctor _River Song?"

"Well the first time that I ever met you was my first day on the job, when that inmate fight broke out and you went around bandaging up everyone that got hurt. You set my broken arm before I went to the infirmary," Anita answered, wide-eyed. "I always just assumed that you were a medical doctor."

"No, I've just always believed medical training is one of the best things that you can have," River grinned, pumping soap from the dispenser into her hand and closing her eyes to scrub her face. "But don't worry, Professor Candy doesn't just go around recruiting young new girls to the Archeology Department—he's gay and widowed, bless his heart. I chose archeology on my own and, believe me, you have to earn his approval in that interview to get in. If he's recruiting you after seeing what you can do in your first semester, then you must really be something. He knows what he's about."

"When did you get in?" Anita asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Well, I was accepted directly," River answered, wishing that she didn't sound so pompous in her honesty. "But it was the only department that I applied to and I think that I may have buggered the hell out of him for the interview. His assistant certainly doesn't like me, even to this day, the poor woman."

Anita laughed. "That's great! So you actually like talking about all of the stuff that I go on about, you know, my school stuff and Intergalactic History."

"Oh, it's incredibly refreshing," River replied, washing the soap out of her eyes.

"Well, what do you think about the Library?" Anita questioned excitedly. "I know I talk about it a lot, but I thought that you just tolerated me. Have you ever studied it in-depth?"

"I haven't, but ever since you've started talking about it, I've been wanting to look into it more," River answered, reaching for a washcloth and lathering it with soap. "You said that Mr. Lux is planning an excavation of the Library?"

"Yeah, but he's talking about several years from now," Anita answered, pulling a large textbook from where she had been hiding it beneath River's pile of fresh prison garb. "I only know about it because Professor Candy knows that it fascinates me and he's trying to convince me to go the archeology route. Do you know Mr. Lux?"

"I met him once," River replied. "And I always considered once to be quite enough. He went on and on about contracts and disclosures and I just wanted to ask if he wanted some help pulling that wad of contracts and disclosures out of his arse."

"Damn," Anita chuckled, leaning back comfortably as she found what she was looking for in her book. "I've never met him and I know that he's not a professor; he's just a member of the board of regents and his family has some kind of claim over the Library. So, I guess that if I want to ever get there, I'll have to kiss up a bit."

"Don't you dare 'kiss up'," River reprimanded her seriously. "You're far too clever to have to kiss up to get anywhere. You decide whether or not you want to be an archeologist, you work hard for it, and you prove to him and the university that, no matter if they like you or not, they'd be damn fools not to let you be a part of it. Even the likes of Mr. Lux knows that if he wants to make anything of the Library, then he needs the best. So you be the best."

"Yes, Doctor Song," Anita agreed with a grin, nodding her head meekly. "Thank you."

"May I ask," River began, already knowing the answer before she asked the question, but trying to change the subject to keep the conversation light. "Why do you always turn off your communicator during shower duty?" She nodded towards the pocket that Anita had stowed the device in. "I thought that standard procedure for all guards was to keep their communicator on the wrist at all times."

"Yeah, well I'm the only straight female guard here and you're a straight female prisoner," Anita smirked, shaking her head slightly. "Don't get me wrong—I have nothing against homosexuality—but I work with a bunch of pervs that like to listen in and I'd much rather not have to listen to them trying to make jokes."

"Which remind me, thank you for trading shower duty with Mr. Trigger Happy…you know how very shy I am," River replied humorously.

"Funny, you never really struck me as very shy, Doctor," Anita commented with a grin, nodding to her pile of clothes that had been discarded carelessly, as though she were just as comfortable here as she would be at her home. "But I don't think that any woman would appreciate some man gawking at her while she's trying to shower—especially not some of the garbage that they let work here."

"I'm beginning to sense a smidge of bitterness towards your coworkers," River joked, pressing a generous amount of shampoo into her hand from the dispenser on the wall and massaging it into her hair as Anita chuckled and then began to read aloud from her book.

No, she had never been shy about nudity, but preference-wise, she would much rather not have to feel holes being burned through her as she always did when other guards took shower duty. There was only one person that she actually enjoyed that kind of attention from, but he, unfortunately, was unable to even visit through the proper channels—much less be authorized to oversee shower-time. River grinned fondly at the thought, then sobered. But with a straight female guard that was just as unphased by nudity and could care less, River was able to at least enjoy this. And enjoy it, she did.

It felt amazing, especially since it had been nearly an entire week since she had last broken out or the Doctor had come and whisked her away on some adventure or another. Two showers a week was a lark, so she took her time to savor it while she could. She was fortunate that Anita did not seem to mind waiting while she did so—though the near-boiling water warmed the cold bones that Stormcage and its weather during the planet's winter months always inflicted her with, River was perfectly aware that the guards in their uniforms and armor suffered in the humid and moist atmosphere of the shower rooms. Anita was the only guard that would allow her to take her time, rather than rushing her out with shouts and threats of privileges being taken if she did not happen to be finished the moment that they began to sweat. Being the only female inmate currently imprisoned at Stormcage was a bit of a plus, as well. She had the shower room to herself and did not have to deal with other inmates trying to fight for supremacy or some kind of sexual domination—not that she hadn't always been perfectly capable of shutting down either issue quite efficiently and swiftly.

"Oh, dare I ask if you brought the _stuff_?" River asked conspiratorially, suddenly remembering that she had messaged the Doctor via his psychic paper and he would be picking her up after lights out.

"Oh, yeah, I brought it," Anita answered, pulling two plastic bottles from one of her many uniform pockets and tossing one to River and setting the other on the table by her clean clothes. "Most inmates try to talk you into sneaking them drugs, or weapons, or communicators, or some other kind of contraband, but not Doctor River Song. Nope, she just wants hair conditioner and deodorant."

"Exactly, and do you know that in all of the years that I've been here, you're the only one that I've managed to convince to bring it to me?" River asked, rinsing the shampoo from her hair.

"Makes me wonder if that makes me the reasonable one or the thick one," Anita replied.

"Well, I haven't hurt anyone with them yet," River answered, pressing an equally generous amount of the hair conditioner into her palm and running it through her curls, detangling them with her fingers.

"Hello ladies," a male voice interrupted suddenly and River rolled her eyes in annoyance as she saw Anita jump to her feet and turn towards the shower room door where two armored figures were now standing. "Please tell us that we're interrupting something."

"Shut up, Mason," Anita spat and River went ahead and rinsed the conditioner from her hair, knowing perfectly well how this was going to go. "I haven't called for an in-house transfer yet. Her time isn't up."

"Hey, if you two just need a little more time to finish, please," the other guard said, raising his gloved hands in mock surrender. "Just let us know. Just make sure you put that communicator back on your wrist and switch it on."

"Ooh, don't let your insecurity show, boys," River spoke up before Anita could retaliate, turning off the water and drying herself quickly with the thin towel, smirking at them both with perfectly feigned charm. "Aren't there plenty of other things to be jealous of rather than two heterosexual women in a shower room? Or are they not letting you boys out as much these days?"

"Oi, prisoners shut up unless they're spoken to," the guard named Mason demanded, pointing a finger threateningly as he stepped towards River.

"Leave her alone, you're just—," River heard Anita begin, but she cut her off.

"And you just spoke to me," River said, pulling on the clean undergarments and then the tank top. "So I suppose I have permission now."

"No, but you have permission to—," the other guard laughed, saying something incredibly vulgar. "Or would your girlfriend not like that?"

"Up yours, Charlie," Anita hissed, stepping between River and Mason and River sincerely wished that she hadn't, despite her good intentions.

If the other guards decided to take it as a challenge, there wasn't a chance in all of eternity that River wouldn't help her. But the problem with that was that River was capable of so much more than two testosterone-driven men would be willing to give her credit for and she would cause damage—serious damage—and then get herself landed back in solitary confinement for a couple of weeks.

Stepping forward to stand next to Anita, who was nose-to-nose with Mason, River reached between them and grabbed her pants, managing to force them to part. But the tension was still palpable and River's mind was racing, trying to think of some way to alleviate the situation.

"Actually, I think you've had more than enough time, Doctor Song," Mason said suddenly and snatched the jogging pants from her grasp, side-stepping Anita with a demeaning smirk. "Turn around, hands against the wall, and spread 'em."

If looks could kill, River would have had to pile another life sentence atop her vast collection. Her temper flared dangerously, but she managed to smother it enough to obey her orders, aware of the level of severity that any consequences would be at.

"Let her put her pants on, you—!" Anita began, furious.

"Shut up, Anita," River hissed angrily, turning to face the wall, feet apart, and pressing her hands against the cold cement blocks. "I can put them on in my cell. It's fine."

"There, see, she gets it," Charlie laughed and River gritted her teeth tight when Mason decided to give her an unnecessary frisk.

He then snapped one wrist into a pair of handcuffs, painfully tight, and then the other, fastening them uncomfortably behind her back. He grabbed the cuffs roughly and turned her and River gave Anita a pointed look in passing, silently commanding her to just let them transfer her back to her cell.

"If it makes you feel any better, Doctor Song," Charlie grinned, falling in behind Anita who was following behind Mason as River was led down the freezing corridor. They reached River's cell quickly and Anita passed by, unlocked the heavy iron door, and pulled it open. "I don't think the fabric of those old jogging pants would have held up too well where you're going, anyways."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anita asked, but any answer that may have come was drowned out by the sudden and thunderous sound of many heavy footfalls.

The hearts in her chest froze as River turned her neck, straining to catch a glimpse behind her, but she was jerked forward by Mason. Around the bend in the corridor in front of them, a line of heavily armed cleric soldiers were closing in on them and River could hear the footsteps of those behind them growing just as close and realization hit her with enough force to halt her breathing and turn the blood in her veins to ice.

"No," she heard Anita breath before jumping forward suddenly and knocking the guard named Mason out cold with an astounding right-hook.

"Anita, no!" River shouted, shouldering the girl to the floor as the guard named Charlie swung at her and ducking just in time to avoid the blow, herself.

Barely able to maintain her balance with her hands behind her back, she took advantage of the man's already precarious position and hooked a foot around his leg to trip him. When he was down, a swift and well-aimed kick with the ball of her bare foot to the temple was enough to keep him down. She had no hope of escape—she had told the Doctor to come after lights out and he would not arrive early—but she could try to at least help Anita.

"Don't fight, them!" River shouted at her as Anita clambered to her feet and pulled the sonic blaster from her belt. "They don't want you!"

"Doctor River Song, you're being transported."

River turned quickly to the source of the voice, only to meet the butt end of a soldier's heavy weapon. Falling against the heavy iron cage door, River's head cracked on the concrete and the last coherent thought that she managed to form before the blackness took her was that they knew.

Somehow they knew.


	3. Chapter 3

_Alrighty, the usual disclaimers apply and I'm sorry that this one took me longer to complete. But, it's quite a bit longer than the others, so maybe that will help earn me a bit of forgiveness. It was much longer, but I decided to split it in two—therefore, this chapter and the next one that takes place on the TARDIS are meant to happen in exact succession. :) Also, another big thank you to Nicole, Lily, RiverPond20 (love the dog brows on your profile pic, by the way :)), and Aramina16 for their reviews for Chapter 2, and to everyone that has followed and/or favorite this story. It is extremely encouraging as this is my first fanfic! Also, if anyone has any suggestions or concerns, please, please, please let me hear them. I can use all the help I can get because I really don't want to miss anything that will take away from the story. _

_Thanks, and please enjoy!_

* * *

The mechanical grinding and clanging of the TARDIS engines idling was the only sound that permeated the silence in the console room, the air between the three so thick that it felt almost tangible. The Doctor sat suspended in the swing below the console's glass floor, bent double with his head tucked between his knees as his hands clung to the hair at the back of his head, as tight as all of the tension that he felt tearing through his chest.

"Doctor, where are we?" Amy asked suddenly, breaking the mind-numbing silence.

The Doctor lifted his head from his knees and released his grip on his hair, but kept his face down and his gaze focused on the floor. Oh, how he wished for just a few moments of solitude so that he might work out his own thoughts, without interruption from others. Everything within him felt as though it were imploding—crashing and burning inside of him—yet, he could not let them see it lest it worried them further.

"Doctor, where are we?" Amy repeated, her tone more insistent than before and her black boots came into his line of vision as she stepped forward.

"The Gamma Forests," he answered flatly, his gaze falling on his own boots, unseeing, as the images of River's rummaged cell passed over his mind's eye at a dizzying speed, making him feel ill all over again. "It's a peaceful location."

"Well, what are we doing here?" Amy demanded and the Doctor could hear the forced calm behind her voice.

"Where else would you suggest we go?" he questioned, the calmness of his tone equally forced, if not more so.

"Perhaps somewhere a little more likely to be where River is, maybe?" Rory answered, coming to stand behind his wife. "We're wasting time. It's been an hour since we left Stormcage but we still haven't done anything. I mean, the way time works with you and River, who knows how long it's been for her or what they're doing to her."

"Who?" the Doctor asked, looking up at them both in defeat, willing them to think. "Who are 'they'? Where do we find her? Where do we even begin to look? Her vortex manipulator was missing from her possessions. It'll almost certainly be in the hands of her captors and with technology like that, with the proper vessel and the appropriate link to magnify the vortex…they could have taken her anytime and anywhere."

Neither Rory nor Amy answered and the Doctor noted the small signs of comprehension of their predicament dawn on their faces.

"The Silence," Rory said after a moment, his brows furrowed in frustration. "Who else?"

"That's precisely what I thought," the Doctor replied, leaning his elbows onto his knees, rocking the swing back and forth gently on his toes. His brows knitted together and his head was pounding with the tension of his focus. "But _how_? _Why_? After all this time, why would they suddenly start to resurface now? Lake Silencio, the Teselecta, River serving her time in Stormcage for _my murder_…they think I'm _dead_! I made certain of it. Not a single database in the universe throughout all of time has any record of me. So _what _could have possibly made them think that they needed to take her for information?"

"For information?" Amy asked, clearly startled.

"So they're torturing her?" Rory asked, the disgust written clearly on his face.

The Doctor swallowed hard. Yes. He had come to that conclusion before his examination of River's cell back at Stormcage had even been halfway complete—but hearing the cold truth aloud. It lent the situation a sense of finality, not allowing for even the ruminations of other possibilities.

"River has never hurt anyone, other than me," the Doctor answered after several moments, swallowing again in attempt to rid himself of the images that his mind immediately conjured up. He shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth—he could almost hear River screaming. He pushed on, forcing the torment of his imagination to the dark recesses of his mind. "Well…except those Silences after they took you in Florida and the dalek at the museum after it shot me." He nodded to Amy. "Not even at Area 52. She never hurt anyone, so who else would take her like this? There's no other feasible explanation if not for information."

"How can you discuss it so coolly?" Rory demanded, his fists clenching and the Doctor noted the change in his tone instantly. "Our daughter is out there somewhere being tortured—for information about you! And you're sitting in a swing! The worst thing that could possibly happen to her…!"

"Captivity, death…even torture are far from the worst that they could be doing to her," the Doctor cut him off, the words bitter on his tongue.

"What could be worse than that?" Amy breathed, unnaturally broken and the Doctor wished so very desperately that he could mend her mother's-heart.

"Relapse," the Doctor answered matter-of-factly, massaging his fingers over his lids as the task of carrying on with the agonizing conversation continued to become an even heavier burden to bear. "If it is indeed the Silence that has taken her, and I feel certain that it could not be anyone else, then her worst fear would be the control that they have had over her since she was a child. River spent the most vital developmental years of her life being brainwashed—her mind warped and twisted—until she became what they wanted her to be. Imagine living through all of that…knowing that something is so very wrong, but not able to even remember the creatures that were doing it to you once they left your sight—then feeling the full girth of it all come crashing down on you every time that you saw the creatures again. Memories—even faded or blurred ones—can be turned into the worst weapons against a person. Especially the manner of memories that River has. The Silence are not fools…the mind is their realm and now they've stolen back the psychopath of their own creation."

"River's not a psychopath," Rory replied through gritted teeth. "She's overcome all of that…after Berlin. The psychopathic part is gone."

"Do you know—River told me once—that when Madame Kovarian, with her Cleric thugs and Silents, abducted River from Luna University, forced her into a Apollo astronaut suit, and dumped her into the freezing depths of Lake Silencio," the Doctor retorted, growing impatient. "River hadn't the faintest idea who any of them were. She said that Kovarian told her not to even try to remember her because they had done to well of job on her mind. And she hadn't—a lifetime of torture and torment and she couldn't even remember those that were responsible for it. All she could recall were vague memories of terror and pain and hatred."

"Psychopathy never disappears, Rory; you should know that. It has been deemed untreatable by more worlds than yours, future and past, for a reason: because a psychopath is incapable of consciously acknowledging that something is wrong with the way that they view the world around them—that their perspective is perverse." The Doctor lifted his head from his hands and finally met their gazes, Amy's teary and filled with worry, but Rory's hard with an underlying anger. "That is the weakness of their illness…the weakness that makes them incurable."

"But River is stronger than most beings—physically and mentally. She _does _know that she is a psychopath and has become _inconceivably_ adept at controlling it. Her mind and consciousness work differently because she is more than human, but not quite timelord," he continued to explain, returning his gaze to the floor and leaning forward on his knees.

"Then what _is _she?" Rory asked, his voice harsh.

"Rory—," Amy started.

"She's your daughter, Rory," the Doctor interrupted him firmly, lifting his gaze challengingly to Rory's. "Your childhood friend and my wife. What else do you need her to be?"

Rory glared at him angrily for several moments before dropping his gaze from the Doctor's expression of collected calm, though his stance remained rigid. The Doctor shifted his gaze to Amy's, the desperation that he saw behind her eyes wounding him deeply.

"Two of the key characteristics of the timelords—aside from the lack of effect that time had on us and the ability to regenerate—were the lack of mental boundaries and telepathy. Where the average brain of the average specimen from any species in the universe would only be able to stretch so far before failing to comprehend concepts, the timelords knew no such bounds. The ability of telepathy was honed and refined over billions and billions of years, evolving with the timelords as we became what we did. And somewhere in River's DNA—human plus timelord—there are the ghosts of these traits…and it gives her mental abilities that no other human could possibly possess. She has more control over her own unconscious, but the psychopathy will always have triggers that causes her to relapse and the conditioning that she was raised by will resurface. It's happened before; I've seen it. _Rarely_—very rarely does it happen, but it does. The illness is still there and always will be…and the fact that it was intentionally caused, that she was _conditioned _and _raised _to be a psychopath…," the Doctor explained, then dropped his forehead to his hand again, feeling helpless. "Well, let's just say that it is nearly impossible for you to fathom the full extent of just how incredibly strong and resilient a woman your daughter is."

"But, why can she control it so well now?" Amy asked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek and moving forward to stoop down in front of the Doctor, looking into his lowered gaze. "When…when she was Mels, she couldn't control any of it; but, then she regenerated and she sort of…well, changed. Yeah, she still tried to kill you, but…it was different. She was suddenly interested in hearing what we had to say when we mentioned River Song. Mels wouldn't have cared; she just wanted to kill you. Why was it different?"

"With every regeneration, a timelord's mind changes: their character, their personality, the ways in which they view things, or people, or events. Multiple regenerations has weakened the conditioning and the different regenerations handle it differently. You saw it even before River regenerated in Berlin. Even as a frightened young child in Florida, when most would have been at their weakest, she fought against it—appealing to the highest authority by calling President Nixon; but, no one helped her. We tried, but never found her, which turned out to be for the best because had we found her and saved her…our River Song would never have been," he answered, reaching his other hand to touch Amy's cheek gently. "She was a scared child—neither human nor timelord—who was enduring a terrible life, yet attempted to handle and cope with the situation as best as she could _because _her mind in _that _regeneration was exceptionally strong."

"But Mels—with her gun and complete, and sometimes violent, disregard for the consequences of her actions—was more susceptible. She was strong physically, yes. But mentally, she was much weaker than both her earlier and later regenerations. The psychopathy had a much stronger hold on her, but still not _quite _enough to make her a true psychopath."

"What do you mean?" Amy asked, brushing a tear from her cheek roughly and trying to compose herself. "She tried to kill you as Mels…and she shot the TARDIS and almost got us all killed."

"Psychopaths, Amy," the Doctor answered, his brows furrowing as he chose his words carefully. "_True _psychopaths don't care who they hurt. But even as Mels, can you remember a single instance in your childhood when River physically hurt someone innocent?"

Amy thought about that for a silent moment and the Doctor glanced up at Rory, who was now leaning against the handrail of the ramp, his eyes cast to the floor, his jaw set tightly, and both arms crossed over his chest.

"No," Amy answered, shaking her head and the Doctor pulled his gaze back to her.

"Of course you don't," the Doctor smiled sadly, swallowing hard as his worry and concern for River peaked within him, making him feel nauseous. "Because River would never harm an innocent—even as Mels, she was able to control that, when no proper psychopath should be able to. She misbehaved in school, insulted people, stole things…but she never hurt anyone unless they were hurting her or hurting someone else. And then, she regenerated again, and the River that we know now has the best of both worlds, fortunately. She is an incredibly strong woman, physically and mentally, because of what she has endured in her lifetime. But we still see the evidence of her psychopathy every day—her promiscuity, the coolness with which she can take life, or steal, or blackmail, and any number of other things—despite how good and loving and compassionate and self-sacrificing a woman she is. Fortunately, her unconscious was kind and put her psychopathy to good use—making her furiously protective of people."

"But understand, that I do not mean to describe her as uncaring or unphased when she does things that we consider wrong or immoral. She does care, but the unconscious hold that the rest of us would feel in that sort of situation is significantly less influential with her because she was raised to kill, raised to be so much worse than she is," the Doctor explained, taking Amy's tearful face in both hands, desperate to give peace to his closest friend and the mother of his wife. "No, she really doesn't mind killing when the victim has victimized others—we must consider, after all, that she has been victimized in all of the worst ways possible from the day she was born to the day that she carried out the task that she had been raised to complete. But no soul can take away life without feeling the effects on their _humanity _or their personal _morality _in some way."

"Sorry," Rory interrupted, stepping forward and leaning between Amy and the Doctor, parting them. "But, did I hear you say 'promiscuity'?"

"Rory, I understand that she is your daughter," the Doctor answered, his reserve of calm dwindling considerably. "But you cannot honestly _know _River, at all, and deny the fact that she is promiscuous."

"My daughter is _not_ promiscuous!" Rory bellowed, stepping towards the Doctor threateningly.

"Yes she is, Rory," the Doctor replied, forcing himself to remain calm. "For sanity's sake, Rory—she's my wife! Don't act as though I'm trying defame her—she would tell you exactly the same, and you know it! But it's not by any fault of her own. It is the nature of the disease. But, unlike the nature of the disease, it is only on her terms. River may put on a bit of a show, sometimes, but if anyone should give her unwanted attention…well," the Doctor smiled gently into his chest at all of the thoughts and memories that his words brought to mind, despite the circumstances. "She's always _quite _certain to let them know what she thinks on the matter."

"While you just stand aside and let it all happen, I suppose?" Rory countered.

The smile fell from the Doctor's face in an instant and, before he knew it, he found himself on his feet with his nose not an inch from Rory's, his temper flaring dangerously, with no recollection of even moving. It was too far. He could be understanding—after all, he had lost children too—but Rory had gone beyond that.

"It is lucky…very lucky for you that you obviously do not know your daughter very well," the Doctor growled, rage flaring in the ancient eyes that bore into Rory's menacingly. A small part of his mind registered the minute and involuntary flinch Rory gave at the slight, but he could not force himself to care just then. "Because if you did, then you would know that River is not a woman that wishes to be coddled and smothered. She takes care of herself and when she can't and she needs me, I _do _step in….But when she can, I leave her to it because it would be nothing short of the worst embarrassment for her should I treat her like she is incapable of being completely independent."

The Doctor fell silent, his fists clench to his sides so tightly that he could feel the skin of his palms breaking under his fingernails. He needed to go. He needed quiet. He needed to calm the hell down.

"Doctor," Amy said quietly, stepping next to them and fitting a restraining hand in the small space between each man's chest. "Rory."

"And whose fault is it that I never really got to know my daughter?" Rory asked, barely above a whisper, but the words hit the Doctor full-force.

"I suggest you go now," the Doctor replied, his visage stony. "I need to find my wife."

"Yeah, just let me know if you need any help with that," Rory sneered, stepping away when Amy pressed her hand against his chest more firmly. He turned to the ramp and made his way up slowly. "I've had to do it loads of times, thanks to you."

"Eh, it was the _Doctor_ who found out _where_ I was every time, alright?" Amy said angrily, but subdued.

The Doctor felt a twinge of regret for Amy's sake as Rory glared back down at her, shook his head lowly, and then departed up the ramp and down a corridor.

Amy watched after him for a moment before turning away from the ramp to face the Doctor again. "How…how do you know all of that? About Mels, I mean," she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

The Doctor met her penetrating gaze with no little degree of difficulty. Best friend or not, it was difficult discussing private and intimate matters about his wife and he with his mother-in-law—especially in their current situation.

"She is my wife, Amy," he answered quietly. "I care for her deeply. We go on dates and spend a lot of time alone, when we can, and, believe it or not…a lot of times we actually just talk. Especially now…," he swallowed hard. "We've never been this linear before…almost on the same page in time."

His hands feeling awkward and foreign with nothing to do, he sunk them deep into his trouser pockets and strode silently towards the door of one of the TARDIS's many corridors. He stopped just before leaving. God, it pained him so badly to discuss it aloud and he wanted nothing more than the freedom of solitude, the freedom to think clearly and without interruption on how he could get her back. But he could not do it…he could not leave Amy, his best friend and the mother of his wife, with so many questions when her daughter had just been wrenched from her hands, yet again.

"River has suffered in one way or another for her entire life," the Doctor ground out, one hand gripping the door frame and he leaned against it, staring into the long dark corridor. "And all because of me." He let out a small scoff brimming with self-loathing. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself. "She handles it all so well and never gives a hint of the pain that she feels so _constantly_. And it _breaks _my _hearts _to have to watch it and be able to do nothing in the universe about it. I can never help, I can never make it better; even when I could, she never lets me. She has sacrificed everything for me and I can't give a single thing to her because she made me promise!"

The Doctor mentally slapped himself at the last and fell silent, clenching his eyes shut tightly. Spoilers. Even for Amy. The Library had not yet happened for them and he would be damned before he made them suffer that foreknowledge the way that he did.

"What do you mean?" Amy asked quietly, dashing the Doctor's hopes that she may have missed his slip up.

"Your daughter's future is my past, Amy," he answered. "Just like my future is her past…and the first time that I met her, I had no idea who she was, but she made me promise that I would never change anything between us. I dare not change her past, I have no right. But, God, do I wish I could. All that she's done…all that she's sacrificed for me…and I can't give her one _fucking _thing in return."

The feel of Amy's hand on his elbow startled him and he rounded on her quickly, the angry tears running down his cheeks mirrored the sad ones running down her own. The depth of the sorrow that he sensed in his best friend did nothing to quell the overwhelming barrage of emotions that felt as though they were tearing him apart from the inside out.

"I don't know River the way that I wish I could," Amy said thickly, a shaky smile playing on her lips and she wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck, pulling him into a warm and comforting hug. "But even Madame Kovarian could see how much she loved you, because that's what frightened her so much. Anyone can see that she loves you and that you love her, even though you try to hide it most of the time. So…just love her. Just love her, and take care of her, and protect her, and let her know how you feel about her. Just _be there _with her, while you can—because, from what I can tell of you two being back to front…the first time that you met her would have been the last time that she ever gets to see you, yeah? So…to her, it must be almost like she's having to watch you forget her; I can't imagine what that must be like…for both of you. Before all of this, I was never really certain how you felt about her or if you even were protective of her the way that she is over you. So she may not know either and—from just how well I _do _know my daughter—I think that the only thing that she has ever really wanted from you is to know that you feel the same about her."

The Doctor let his arms wrap around Amy's waist and buried his face into her shoulder, unable to contain the pain of his sorrow indefinitely. Her words sunk into him like they never would have had they been spoken by anyone else. He knew that Amy and Rory loved their daughter, but he also knew that it was a different sort of love than what should be found between parents and their child. Fate had not allowed them the opportunity to raise their child as they should have been able to, nor to feel their love for her grow as she grew and blossomed from an infant to the beautiful woman that she was.

"Now…," Amy said, her tone firmer and the Doctor inwardly relished the sound of her tone. She sounded like a mother—comforting and kind, but resolute. She pulled away from the hug and patted his shoulders softly before brushing her eyes dry again and the Doctor released her to dry his own. "Go to…well, wherever it is that you go to be alone…and take some time. I'm so sorry. Rory and I didn't even consider it; your wife is missing and you're scared and we haven't given you a moment's peace to think. You've found our daughter for us before…we should know to trust you to find her again."

"Amy…."

"And…about Rory," Amy interrupted him, stepping backwards towards the ramp that Rory had stormed off on mere moments before. "He's angry and scared and he's taking it out on you and I'm really, really sorry. He'll get over it, so…just don't hold it against him, eh?"

The Doctor met her gaze understandingly but, in his hearts, he knew that it was so much more than she believed it to be.

"Never," the Doctor answered with a gentle smile before turning back and making his way down the dark corridor. "Any father half as decent as Rory would feel exactly the same as he does."

If Amy replied, he did not hear it before disappearing from her view, making his way deeper and deeper into the TARDIS's infinite space.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I own nothing—the BBC and Steven Moffat do. Thanks!_

_Also, another thanks to People Person I'm Not, Nicole, Lorien, and forever river song for their reviews and thanks to everyone that has Favorited and/or Followed this story. By the way, sorry I took so long to update and that this chapter is significantly shorter than the last—just started back for the Fall semester. But, the next chapter should be up by tonight and it's much longer._

_Ok, this chapter is skipping over to River's point of view, but the next chapter will be the second half of Chapter 3. _

_And, lastly, consider this my final warning that the whole M rating is about to start coming into play from this chapter onwards. Language, descriptions of torture and rape, and intimate situations are part of the theme for the rest of the story. Therefore, if you are opposed to this manner of writing—please, stop reading now._

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River's eyes opened blearily, but the quick-moving shapes before her were so dark that it was difficult to tell between opened and closed. Blinking hard several times, she struggled to regain her proper vision and it was a long moment before she realized that it was people—uniformed Clerics, to be exact—moving about in front of her. Startled, she moved to stand, but her wrists and ankles gave a mighty lurch of pain when cold, sharp metal bit into her flesh. Looking down, she found herself heavily restrained. Two sets of thickly-chained manacles held her ankles and wrists together tightly and a short chain held her hands fast, behind her back, to another heavy chain strung around her waist.

_Anita,_ she suddenly thought, her mind snapping into awareness and memory of Stormcage, Anita, and the Cleric guards struck her suddenly and she found herself growing frantic. Where was Anita?

Opening her lips to speak, she found her throat so dry that noise refused to come forth. Swallowing, she looked about herself, but found her head heavy and difficult to move.

"A…Anita!" she called, her voice cracked and low.

"Shut it, Pond!" a voice lashed out at her and River looked to find its source.

"Where is she?" she demanded of the Cleric that stood over her, only a few feet away from where she was fastened to iron bars on the floor by her ankles restraints. "I swear, if you've hurt her—!"

"I said 'shut it'," the Cleric replied, leaning down and leering at her and River recognized him as the Stormcage guard called Charlie.

Angrily, River swung her head forward suddenly, head-butting the insolent man to the floor easily. Her already aching head screamed in protest, but it was worth it.

"And I said 'where is she'?" River shouted, jerking against her chains with all of the strength that she could muster, managing to get into a kneeling position.

"Oi! Get her down," one of the other Clerics shouted and she braced herself, knowing what was sure to come.

A large boot crashed into her side with incredible force, throwing her back down onto her other side, and River was certain that she felt a couple of ribs crack inside of her, but she refused to release the grunt of pain that rose in her chest. Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them up again just in time to see another boot flash past her vision before colliding with her stomach and the side of her head slammed to the stone floor with the force of it. This time she could not help the gasp that made its way out when all of the air was knocked from her.

"Now,_ Pond_," the second Cleric said, stepping down beside her as she tried not to let him see her fighting for breath. He snatched a handful of hair and jerked her head up to look at him. "You just lie still like a good girl and wait for the boss lady. She'll be getting here tonight and she'll tell us what to do with you. Until then, you shut up and stay quiet."

"First, you tell me where Anita is," River replied breathlessly, looking up and recognizing the Cleric as the more aggressive guard from Stormcage, Mason.

"Better off than you, for now," he grinned nastily, leaning in closer as he released her hair, but River suddenly felt his gloved hand grab the back of her upper thigh in a painfully tight grip. "If you behave yourself," he continued, his tone dropping to a whisper. "Then we just might keep it that way."

River glared at him brazenly, but remained silent. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the other Clerics beginning to file out of a door on the other side of the cold, damp, dark room and into an equally poorly lit corridor. The atmosphere around her was deafeningly loud. She could clearly distinguish the sound of young soldier Clerics rowdily taking advantage of their commander's absence, but there was something more than that—in the distance, there was a continuous rumbling of agonized groans and crying, penetrated at intervals by various piercing screams.

"Know where we are then, sweetheart?" Mason asked lowly, the hard grip on her thigh moving upwards slightly and River jerked away from him, pulling her leg from his grip.

"Only one person is allowed to call me that," River hissed back at him, cringing at the sharp pain in her side as she slowly but steadily pulled herself back into a sitting position with her back against the wall behind her. "And he's dead now."

"Oh, your husband, you mean? The _Doctor_," Mason asked sarcastically, raising his brows and pulling a mockingly concerned face when River's eyes widened in surprise, then leaned closer to continue through gritted teeth, his nose not an inch from her own. " Oh yeah, honey…we know all about that, now. I'm guessing you're going to tell me he's the only one allowed to put a hand on you, too. Well…, I got news for you, _sweetheart_—your husband isn't here."

Not entirely unexpectedly, he shot one large hand up and wrapped it around her neck, pinning her against the stone wall and the anger exploded within her when she suddenly felt a harsh grasp between her thighs and he shoved his tongue down her throat. Reflexively, she bit down as hard as she could and breathed heavily when he jumped away from her with a yelp, her temper flaring.

Standing to his feet angrily, Mason wiped at his mouth and spit on the floor, then moved forward, hand raised, but River refused him the satisfaction of seeing her even flinch. Steeling herself, River inwardly sighed with relief when the rusty iron door behind him was pushed open and a skinny, baby-faced Cleric that she had never seen before stepped in, looking surprised when he saw the blood dribbling down Mason's chin. River smirked.

"Mason, we're needed in the forty-fourth wing immediately," the younger Cleric said, stepping into the room fully and striding to stand beside him. "Charlie and the rest of the platoon have already gone and I…well, I don't actually know…I just thought that I should come and get you."

"I'll be there in a second," Mason answered, his glare still fixed on River and she held his gaze steadily.

"I think you'd better come now—."

"I _said _I'll be there in a _second_, Samuel!" Mason spat, turning to the younger Cleric.

When their gazes broke, River chanced another glance at Baby-Face and met his eyes briefly. He looked scared, but she also saw a glimmer of something else there, but he looked away before she could decide what.

"Right, then," Samuel said, meeting Mason's gaze firmly for the briefest of seconds before turning back for the door and closing it behind him.

When the door clanged closed, Mason glared back down at her and River smiled pleasantly, admiring the job that she had done on him—his face was drawn up with disgust, no doubt from the bitter metallic taste of blood leaking down his throat.

"Like I said," River said with all of her usual charm. "Don't call me 'sweetheart' and, like you said, only my husband is allowed to lay a finger on me."

"Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts," he replied, pulling the long rifle-like gun that was strapped behind his back into his hands.

"You're going to kill me if you boys keep doing that," River commented when he raised it high, clearly intending to whip her head with the butt of it. "I wonder what your _boss lady _would think of that after going to such lengths to take me prisoner."

Mason smiled distortedly at that and even in the dimness of the room, River could see the blood staining his teeth.

"You know what, sweetheart?" he sneered. "You're right."

Tossing the sonic rifle slightly and catching it, he thrust the butt of it into her right shoulder with unbelievable force and River smothered the short cry of pain that escaped her. Unsatisfied, he repeated the action two more times before stooping down and twisting her upper arm around behind her until River gasped and grunted loudly as the bone finally snapped out of her shoulder socket.

Dropping her head to her chest and willing herself not to cry out again, River cursed under her breath in Gallifreyan—a few choice words that she had learned from the Doctor in private that she had become rather fond of, when the occasion called for it.

"Sorry, what was that, sweetheart?" Mason asked impudently, cupping a hand behind his ear and bending at the waist to loom over her.

"I said 'nice try'," River lied smoothly, glowering up at his insolent face through the curtain of hair that had fallen into her face. "Don't worry…you'll get better. Your _boss lady _spent the better part of my life ensuring that I could take a lot more than that."

River grinned halfway, finding a dark humor in the way his smug expression fell to wide-eyed shock, then to petty annoyance.

Surely, he didn't think that she was going to break that easily.

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_As usual, please review. Follows and Favorites are extremely nice and I appreciate every one of them, but reviews are very helpful. Thank you._


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: It's still not mine! _

_Reminder—this chapter is meant to take place immediately after Chapter 3. It was one, but since it would have been so long, I split it into two. However, as I finished, it ended out being a lot longer than I planned for. Therefore, sorry that it was not updated when I expected it to be. Hopefully the length may make up for it? :) Sorry for any confusion. Thank you and please enjoy!_

_Lastly, thank you to karolprado and People Person I'm Not (Note for you-you're very welcome! It was really good), , and Confusedrambler for their reviews on Chapter 4. :) People, if you're interested in a good, quick, but touching read, go read To Sit In Solemn Silence by People Person I'm Not—really, really good, but be armed with a tissue if you cry easily! :)_

_Oh, just two more things—the big patch of text in the body of the story that is in Italics is memory, just to avoid confusion, and this chapter is mostly angsty/fluff memory on the Doctor's part, so watch out for explicit details if sexual situations bug you._

_Anyways, onward!_

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It was a long and lowly lit path that the Doctor knew well and the time it took to get there seemed nonexistent to him as his mind raced, the images and thoughts rushing through so quickly that it began to overwhelm him and by the time that he reached the door that he was searching for, the mere task of remaining upright and steady on his feet took more energy than he could muster.

_Thank you_, the Doctor thought when the door that he had been seeking opened, seemingly of its own accord, and the lights turned on, but the TARDIS dimmed them to little more than a warm glow. The very fabric of the TARDIS herself groaned lowly around him in response and the Doctor stumbled into the room and immediately collapsed onto the bed that materialized before him.

He was in the one room in the TARDIS that he considered to be his, though he would not consider it, specifically, a bedroom or even an office. Yes, it was where he tended to sleep on the occasions that he did, but the vast room was filled with all manner of things. In one corner stood a large desk, piled high with books and papers. Next to it, lining the remainder of the far wall, was a large work bench, overloaded with various random items and trinkets—half completed or old versions of sonic screwdrivers, assorted cyberman and dalek parts and any number of metal and plastic bits of machinery and countless rolls of duct tape. In another corner was what would appear to be a sort of makeshift kitchen with a tall refrigerator that the TARDIS herself seemed to somehow keep well stocked and a small oven and stove. There was also a bathroom and vast closet just off to the side and in the farther reaches of the room, were several rows of tall bookshelves, brimming with works of literature from every era and every place in the universe.

The bed did not stand where it usually did against the now-bare wall. The TARDIS has transferred it upon telepathically sensing his need in order to catch him as he had faltered.

The Doctor breathed heavily against the thick duvet, burying his face in the soft depths of it and closing his eyes so tightly that he could see stars in the blackness behind his lids. His hands tangled in soft sheets beneath him—still disheveled from several days before when he and River had taken advantage of the rare occasion of her parents visiting Brian and spent the day enjoying each other in bed. Not running, or hiding, or saving planets, or defeating fierce enemies—merely being with each other—husband and wife, making love and holding each other and talking to try and make up for all of the time that they could not.

The Doctor clung to the sheets—to the memory of that day—as though his life depended on them. Her scent still clung to them as fresh as the day that she lay there and a twisted sob escaped him as the Doctor finally let go of all that he had been withholding. His mind tortured him with visions of her, lying on his chest or wrapping her arms around him and pulling her close as he made love to her. Then visions of her completely fabricated by the darker recesses of his imagination overcame them—River lying bound and bloodied and shaking, weak and defenseless against her captors.

Shoving himself away from the bed, his emotions so rife that he felt that he may become sick at any moment, a terrible and guttural bellow ripped through him and filled the air around him until he could feel it tremor.

"_FUCK!_" he bellowed again, kicking the foot board of the bed with such force that he left a long hairline crack in the grain of the wood. His hands flew to his hair and his fingers grasped the dark locks so tightly that he had to still himself just enough to not pull his own hair out. "How! How the hell did this happen? What the hell do I do?"

What could he do? He was supposed to be dead, so any inquiring and investigation into River's whereabouts would be an immediate red flag to the Silence. It was a risk that he was more than willing to take on his own head, but his hearts and mind reminded him that if he should, River would suffer for it and would hate him for taking the risk. But he could not just sit back and do nothing! No matter what he knew River would say or want if she were there, he could not give her this. He would not leave her to try and survive on her own. The Silence would not be so forgiving the third time.

Yes—he knew that it must be the Silence that was responsible for River's disappearance—for they were the only ones with motive and opportunity enough to abduct River from her maximum security prison ward and then even search her cell. The Clerics ran Stormcage Containment Facility and the Silence, in essence, ran the Clerics. And the Silence would not have relinquished their prized psychopath—no matter how troublesome and rebellious she was for them—to any other enemy so easily.

The Doctor's breath came in raging gasps, his chest heaving, as he paced the long room frantically. Everywhere he turned, he saw her. River, the only other person in all of time and space that had ever seen the inside of this inner sanctum and was even allowed free reign, to come and go as she pleased. His mind's eye persisted in projecting visions of her there and the Doctor was certain that he might be driven mad. There, River lying on the bed, sleeping peacefully and as naked as the day that she was born, with nothing but her maddeningly wonderful curls and a sheet to cover her. There, River sitting at his desk, pushing piles of his things aside to find room to read or write and smiling at him endearingly when he half-heartedly tried to reprimand her for it and pretended to be annoyed. There, shutting the door to the refrigerator and pouring herself a glass of milk. There, River pacing the long line of narrow bookshelves, selecting her choices and adding them to the pile already in her arms.

The Doctor paused suddenly in his pacing, his feet stilling of their own accord as he suddenly felt the presence of another within his own mind and then, quite unexpectedly, an inexplicable calm overcame him as his breathing eased to a slow and steady pace and every muscle in his body seemed to relax. The TARDIS's telepathic circuits had entered his mind and she was calming him. Bless the Old Girl. It was very rarely that the TARDIS invaded his mind to this degree, but she always knew exactly when his thoughts necessitated it and he welcomed the calm that she offered him as warm tears fell from his closed eyes and down his cheeks again.

River had once told him that he accomplished very little when he allowed himself to get to such a point of despair that he could no longer think properly—and the truth of her words resonated with him, especially now. Slowly, he lowered himself and laid down upon the dark wooden floor, afraid that the trance, of sorts, that the TARDIS had put him in would be broken should he move from the very spot. Lying on his back, he allowed his head to lull back and fall to the side, his eyes beginning to open lazily as the TARDIS took over his mind, banishing the visions from his mind and clearing his thoughts to take him to the place that she wanted him—letting him see what she wanted him to.

* * *

_The Doctor slowed his footsteps as he made his way down the darkened corridor towards the door of his room, listening intently to the sounds emanating from within. His mind began to race and he furrowed his brows and pulled his sonic screwdriver from his inside breast pocket. Never had anyone entered his room before…never had he shown anyone where to find it. _

"_Ooh, come on," he heard a voice groan lowly just as he reached the door, followed by the sound of the loud clanking of metal on metal._

_He turned the doorknob deftly, making not a sound, and opened the door only a crack and looked inside. Across the room from the door was the familiar figure of a familiar woman, bent over his workbench as she worked, using his tools for some unknown task. His gaze traced the back of her, from the messy bun of unruly and falling curls, down the slender back of her form-fitting tank top, over the tempting curves of her hips and bottom, then down her perfect, strong legs to her dusty boots. How many times had he admired that figure but forced himself to look away, fearing that she would notice, only to find the images creeping back up on him in his moments of solitude. _

_But never in _here._ No one was allowed in here…this one place where he sought solitude and succor from the rest of the universe—the one place where he allowed himself the rare privilege of completely letting go of all of his inhibitions. Quite unexpectedly, he felt a burning rise up from his stomach to his chest. River was, and always had been, little more than an enigma to him…but they had grown closer lately—their flirting and banter in company had elevated to sincere smiles, soft voices in conversation, and even intimacy while in private—and the feelings that she had been causing to arise within him frightened him to no end. For pity's sake, the first time that he ever met this woman was on the day of her death and she had scorched herself into his heart the moment that he had heard his name—his true name—whispered from her lips. He had not known then whether that was a blessing or damnation, but the more he saw her, and conversed with her, and discovered what sort of woman she was, the more he felt himself falling for her and was helpless to stop it. Especially now that she had begun to integrate herself into his life so intimately and frequently that he could rarely go a day without finding something of hers on the TARDIS or, at the least, keep her from invading his every thought. A part of him—the darker part of him that despised himself, that he wished so much to be rid of—found a dark humor in the inevitability that he should fall in love with the woman that he already knows the manner and circumstances in which she would die. _

_She knew his name. She could navigate the TARDIS's ever changing infrastructure with more ease than him, at times. She could pilot the TARDIS as though it were second nature and he had come to realize that she was the only being that he had ever met that could keep up with him mentally and physically…more times than he liked to admit, even besting him. She was the only person that had ever been able to see past his every façade and stare down the true man inside, with his every flaw and asset naked and exposed to her. She was the only person that had ever been able to break him down to his very lowest, but never had she done so without building him back up again and supporting him in everything that he did, no matter at what costs. _

_He knew that he should trust her. The TARDIS trusted her and that meant everything in the universe to him. The first time that he had ever met her, she had gained his trust with a single word and gave her life to save his and so, so many others. But there was a stubbornness deep within him that remained suspicious of her and did not want to trust her…or…did he merely not want to love her? _

_He swallowed hard at the thought, realizing the truth in it. He was falling for her so hard and so very fast and he was terrified, knowing that the plummet would end in unbearable heartbreak the day that she left him to go to the Library._

_And the part of him that despised himself so viciously hated her for it—and now she had invaded the only place in the universe in which he could retreat to openly and fully loathe himself._

"_Oh, damn it! Stop being so finicky!" River suddenly fussed, snatching up a screwdriver and pulling an electric cord, causing a spark to momentarily light up the room._

"_River," he said suddenly, his tone sounding very harsh even to his own ears._

"_Hello Sweetie," she answered, but the Doctor did not miss the slight hesitation at his sharp tone. "Just fixing my sonic blaster."_

"_What are you doing in here?" the Doctor demanded, opening the door fully and striding into the room until he stood mere inches away from her back._

"_Like I said, Sweetie," she answered, turning to him with furrowed brows. "I'm fixing my gun. There weren't the proper tools in the console room. What—?"_

"_This is _my _room," he seethed, the comfort and ease with which she leaned against his workbench as though she owned the place bothering him more than it should. "The one place that neither the TARDIS or myself allows others. You could have found the tools somewhere else. Who gave you permission to come in here? What made you think that you could just waltz right in and do whatever you like?"_

_River closed her eyes lightly and sighed deeply, as though praying for the patience that she would need, and the Doctor felt a pang of sorrow deep within his chest when her eyes met his again and he could see the pain in them that she was trying so desperately to hide. _

"_You did," she answered, setting the tool in her hand aside and touching his elbow gently._

"_No I didn't," he replied sharply, his arm stiffening at her touch._

"_You will do one day—very soon, if I'm getting my times right," she said, hinting at his near future in that way that always infuriated him and endeared her to him._

"_Get out!" he said through gritted teeth, snatching his arm from her grasp so forcefully that he accidentally smashed her hand against the sharp corner of the metal bench and he heard her gasp in pain._

_Startled at his own actions, he was just about to take her hand in his and apologize when her other hand smacked him hard across the cheek. His head was thrown aside, but he recovered quickly and turned back to face her, only to find her lovely face drawn up ever so slightly as she struggled for control._

"_Get a grip!" she spat furiously, taking her hurt hand in her other and rubbing it, obviously trying to hide the act of weakness from his eyes. "I know that you're angry, right now, and you're worried. But remember yourself, Doctor! You won't do anyone any good by allowing yourself to wallow in your frustration. Everything is going to be fine as long as you keep control of yourself."_

"_You have no idea what I—," the Doctor began defensively._

"_Oh, you know that I know," River interrupted him angrily and her fierce gaze searched his own for several moments before softening and she spoke again. "And that truly bothers you, doesn't it?"_

"_It bothers me that I don't even know who the hell you are and all you ever say is 'Spoilers' and expect me to trust you," the Doctor answered, unconsciously stepping towards her until they were almost nose to nose. _

"_You know that you should trust me," River argued, standing her ground unflinchingly. "Because the TARDIS trusts me and even with all of your telepathic abilities, you have yet to find one reason why you shouldn't."_

"_You block my telepathy," the Doctor countered._

"_Spoilers," River answered with a tone of finality and the Doctor knew that there was nothing that he could hope to argue that point with._

"_Listen, to me, Sweetie," River said softly after several moments of silent glaring between them. She took his face in her hands gently and his only reflex was to relax into her touch. "I know that you don't trust me now…but you will, one day—completely. I don't know what I did when you first met me, but I sincerely wish that there was more that I could do to gain your trust."_

_This sent a sliver of ice through his hearts and the Doctor visibly flinched at the hurt in her eyes. There was nothing more that she could have possibly done to gain his trust in the Library—she had given everything that she had._

"_Don't say that," the Doctor murmured softly, his gaze meeting her own as he reached a hand up and took the one that he had injured into his own. He looked down at the soft broken skin across the back of her hand and noticed the darkening redness that warned of bruising to come. He ran his fingers over the area gently, his chest filling with regret as he did return to himself—remembering himself and, again, feeling overwhelmed with wonder at this power that she had over him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, lifting the hand to his lips and kissing the affected area tenderly. "I'm very sorry."_

"_I know you are, my love," River replied gently, curling the fingers around his hand and leading them towards the door._

_She paused at the doorway, standing just outside of it in the corridor and he remained inside. _

"_Thank you," he whispered, taking the back of her neck in hand and pulling her to him to kiss her forehead. _

"_You're welcome, Sweetie," she replied and her hand began to slip from his as she turned away from him._

"_W…wait," the Doctor requested, tightening his grip on her fingers ever so slightly. "Uh…you said that the night that I invite you into my room—give you permission and grant you the right to use it as you will—you said that it would be very soon."_

"_Yes," River replied simply, meeting his gaze evenly._

"_Well, um…is that night the first time that we…uh. That you and I…?" the Doctor asked, feeling excessively awkward as he pointed back and forth between them, suggestively. "I mean…is it the first time…that you and I…for you?"_

"_No, Sweetie," River laughed lightly, shaking her head and grinning. "Far from it. I'm assuming that the topic—in regards to us—isn't new to you?"_

"_Oh, no," the Doctor answered quickly with a giddy grin, feeling much more himself now and looking quite proud of himself. "No…we've um…quite a few times."_

"_Are you trying to seduce me, Doctor?" River asked wryly, raising her eyebrows. _

"_No! No, of course not!" the Doctor replied, blushing fiercely and pulling his hands away to adjust his bow tie nervously. "I just…I was just going to suggest that maybe we…uh…that maybe I give you permission tonight. And perhaps…just…go to sleep. Together. Tonight. In…instead of later. After all…time can be rewritten."_

_River grinned but shook her head. "No, Doctor," she answered, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his for the briefest of moments, but long enough to leave him slightly startled and fidgeting. "Not that time. I wouldn't dare."_

_The words that were so similar to the ones that had been engraved in his mind ever since the Library struck him, but also seemed to steady him in an unexpected manner. He did not know exactly what he felt for River at this particular moment…but he knew what he would feel for her someday and what he had been hiding from himself for some time. And despite all of the insane, wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey-ness of their relationship, he understood that time was eventually going to run out for them and he did not want to miss any opportunities that he would sorely regret later. He swallowed hard and straightened himself, the awkwardness fading as his resolution took over. _

"_Well, Doctor Song," he suggested instead, clearing his throat, straightening his bow tie once more, and pulling at the lapels of his tweed coat. "There are a lot of rooms in the TARDIS. I'm certain that we can find at least one that I haven't offered you free reign of yet."_

"_I don't recall ever waiting for an offer," she flirted, grasping his lapels just above his own hands and pulling him to her._

_The kiss was slow and awkward at first, just as all of their previous ones had been, but—as usual—it quickly began to pick up pace as the Doctor abandoned all reservations, making River more comfortable and confident that she was not taking things too quickly for a younger version of her Doctor. His hands soon found their way to the soft curls that were piled into her messy bun and slipped slowly down her bare neck and to her shoulders. He felt the warmth of her hands against his stomach as River slipped them beneath his jacket and around his waist. _

"_I think that we should probably find that bedroom," the Doctor muttered against her lips, never fully breaking the kiss._

"_Well, if you think about it, a bed isn't strictly necessary," River replied with a wry smile, her lips slipping from his and brushing over his cheek to kiss the underside of his jaw. _

"_I thought that we were only going to sleep," the Doctor joked, his confidence building as her lips worked at his throat and her hands began tugging the tail of his shirt from his waistband. _

"_Oh, shut up," she laughed, pulling herself flush against the Doctor's chest and his hands finally dared to slip off of her shoulders and down her slender arms until his hands held hers and he pulled them away from his waist. _

"_Make me," he whispered, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to hers as he lifted her hands to his own shoulders and she wrapped her arms around his neck with a brilliant smile._

_Lifting his thin brows playfully, he met her gaze with his usual playful grin before unexpectedly gripping her thighs just below her bum and lifting her. River threw her head back as she laughed, wrapping her legs around his thin waist, and the Doctor watched the way that the muscles of her neck and throat moved with intrigue. With a sudden urge, he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck and shoulder and felt River's head turn until he felt her lips on his temple, then he stepped forward a short ways to hold her against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor._

"_Rory!" they heard suddenly from another corridor not far from them and the Doctor's lips stopped, but did not move from the warmth of her skin. "Rory, have you found it yet?"_

"_No, not yet!" Rory's voice called in reply, much closer than Amy's._

"_Oh, come on, TARDIS, why do you keep moving our room?" they heard Amy grumble._

"_We'll find it," Rory answered—much closer this time. _

_The Doctor pulled away and looked up at River, eyes wide, and River met his gaze with playful laughter in her own. His hands wrapped around her lower back tightly._

"_I think we'd better find that room soon, then," River whispered lowly with a grin._

_Glancing about themselves, the Doctor spotted a doorway a short distance from them and grinned._

"_Well, then!" he smiled up at her brightly and pulled her away from the wall, carrying her towards it._

_When they had almost reached the door, however, the Doctor tripped over one boot with the other and they would have went tumbling to the floor had River not caught ahold of one of the circular archways that lined the corridor. Stifling laughs, the Doctor held on to her tighter with one arm as he reached around her and fumbled for the doorknob. _

"_Amy, where are you?" Rory asked, now so close that his shadow could be seen at the turn of the hallway._

_Reaching behind her with one hand, River twisted the knob easily and they disappeared, closing the door just in time to avoid Rory's view. The room that they had found was pitch black inside and they could not see each other's faces, but both managed to cover the other's mouth as they heard Rory outside of the door._

"_Hello?" he questioned, the shadows of his legs visible in the crack below the door. "Doctor? River?"_

"_It's me, Rory," River called, twisting her face from beneath the Doctor's hand, but holding hers firmly over his. "What's the matter?"_

"_Oh, hello, River," Rory answered, his voice sounding awkward as he spoke to the Doctor's strange friend that liked to pop up out of nowhere on occasion. "Ummm…Amy and I were just looking for our bedroom. The…the TARDIS keeps moving it around. Have you seen a room with bunk beds?"_

"_No, don't come in, Rory!" River called hurriedly when the knob clinked as he twisted it. "I'm in the bath. And no…I don't think that it's on this corridor—I was looking into all of the rooms just a few minutes ago for a spare bedroom. I didn't see it."_

"_Oh, alright, thanks. Good night, River," Rory replied._

"_Good night, Rory—and good night to Amy," River called, breathing a sigh of relief and releasing the Doctor's mouth from beneath her hand when Rory's shadow disappeared and they heard his footsteps fading._

"_Trust Rory to interrupt," the Doctor joked, curling an arm beneath her bum and tightening the other around her back, supporting her._

"_Hush, he's a good man," River smiled, searching for his eyes, but not finding them in the dark. Looking around them, she could see nothing. "What room is this, anyways?"_

_She leaned forward and shuffled a hand around a bit before finding the light switch and flipping it on. The first thing that she noticed was the large bed in the center of the opposite wall, the sheets and blankets and pillows still in disarray from the last time that she had slept there—she truly disliked making beds. Then she recognized the other familiar bits of furniture and such—her bookshelves that lined the other three walls from floor to ceiling, her messy desk, her wardrobe, and such._

"_Oh, this is my room," she grinned, turning around at the waist to look at it, her hands resting on the Doctor's shoulders for balance. "Haven't been in here in a very long while. She doesn't usually move it about, but…I haven't been able to find it."_

"_What?_ _You have a _room_?" the Doctor asked, looking genuinely surprised when she looked back at him._

"_Oh, the old girl is an excellent hostess, Sweetie," River smiled mischievously, rubbing the TARDIS wall behind the Doctor's head affectionately before taking his jaw into her hands and capturing his lips with hers again, silencing him before he could speak again._

_The Doctor did not require any further encouragement. He immediately carried her over to the bed—actually managing not to stumble, this time—and set her down on the edge. Unwilling to break the heated kiss, River gripped his suspenders as he lowered her and pulled him into her and his hands settled on her hips as he stood, leaning over her. The smallest of moans escaped the Doctor when River deepened the kiss, running her tongue along his lips until he allowed her entry, and his flesh burned beneath his shirt as her hands slipped up his suspenders to grasp his collar and she pulled him down on top of her as she lay back._

"_Oh, you bad boy—aren't you even going to help a girl get comfortable first?" River breathed heavily when the Doctor's hands found their way to the button of her jeans and unfastened them._

"_That's what I'm doing, sweetheart," he murmured against her skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck, then pressing his tongue to the point just behind her ear and kissed the sensitive spot deeply, suckling lightly._

_River cursed under her breath and closed her eyes tightly, his attentions to that particular spot making her feel temporarily dazed. Pulling her arms about his shoulders, she pulled him close against her._

"_You just said a particularly impolite Gallifreyan curse word," the Doctor commented and River could feel him grinning as his teeth scraped the spot, causing her to shiver. "Well, phrase really," he said as an afterthought, momentarily distracted._

"_Well, you're particularly adept at finding ways to drag them out of me," River growled, nudging him with her chin in attempt to extinguish his distraction. _

"_I could always stop," the Doctor grinned as his attentions returned to the spot and the hands on her hips began working her jeans and panties down over her bottom._

"_Don't you dare," River warned through gritted teeth, wrapping her legs around the Doctor's back so that she could reach her feet to unlace her boots and kick them to the floor._

_The Doctor chuckled lightly against her skin and reached behind him with both hands, pulling her legs from around him and she settled them back on the mattress and sat up as he pulled back and kneeled in front of her. His eyes were darkened with lust when they met River's briefly, before he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her thigh, allowing his lips to linger there innocently as his fingertips slid her jeans and panties down her legs and off of her feet. His large hands ran up and down the smooth skin of her calves softly and he brushed his lips down her flesh to press tender kisses to either knee._

"_Doctor."_

_The word was said so quietly that he was uncertain if he had really heard it, at first. However, when he looked up and his deep blue eyes met her green ones, the Doctor's hearts jolted inside of him at the sight of her. Leaning back on his knees, he dropped his hands to her feet and rubbed them softly, trying to be comforting. There was so much emotion and passion in her eyes—so very, very repressed and so well hidden—but he could see it and his hearts were suddenly breaking for her. She cared for him, he could see that so clearly. What he saw in her eyes was love—so profound and so very painfully intense—like he had never seen before...and that terrified him. _

_The warm burning that he had been trying so hard to ignore since he had first found her in his room suddenly burst inside of him and he felt as though his hearts and lungs and stomach would surely blaze and smolder in his very chest. She was looking down at him so intently, as though she could see into his very soul and, somehow, he truly believed that she could. Overwhelmed, he broke the contact painfully and dropped his eyes to his hands. Her feet were so small and so soft in his large hands, but he knew better than to be fooled by their delicate composition—they were exceptionally strong and resilient, just like everything else about her and he…._

"_I'm sorry," River whispered, pulling her feet from his grasp slowly and the Doctor looked up again to find her eyes avoiding his now and one of her hands tugging at the hem of her shirt to cover herself. "You…you should probably go. I'm sorry—I just…I don't feel well, right now."_

"_River," the Doctor said softly, lifting himself up on his knees to better meet her at her level and he unconsciously touched her calves again, his thumbs rubbing her shins. "I…I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be, Sweetie," she replied, her tone stronger now and she was forcing a smile, but the Doctor was not fooled. _

_He had hurt her, somehow—but however unintentionally done, he yearned to make it better. Shifting closer to her, he looked up into her face, his eyes full of concern, and sought out her eyes, but she was refusing to meet his eyes again. _Again_. The Doctor mentally raged at himself—he had turned away from her when she had so obviously been seeking something…perhaps something to meet the measure of emotion that had terrified him so._

_The Doctor swallowed hard, the air like razors in his throat. He had turned away because he had been afraid that she would have found just that. He knew how he felt about her—how she made him burn and yearn for her inside—but he had not been able to bring himself to admit it. He stood so much to lose…he _would _lose her, eventually, in the worst of ways and his every inner defense demanded that he not make it any harder on himself than it already would be._

_But what about her? _

_That look—it was the same intensity of emotions that had burned itself into his memory when he had been forced to watch her die, for him. That was her future, his past, and he had always known that this day would come. The day that he found himself feeling just as much for her and so much more, if it were possible. He had known that his heart would break, knowing all that he did, but he had never imagined that it would hurt like this. _

"_Doctor, really," River spoke again and the Doctor suddenly realized that he had been sitting in silent contemplation for several long moments. "You should go."_

_River moved her legs from his grasp and leaned down, reaching for her pants on the floor, but the Doctor caught her hand in his tightly, finally bringing her gaze back to his and he was surprised to find that his vision was blurring from unshed tears._

"_River," he gulped, swallowing down a painful sob. He held her gaze firmly, refusing to even blink for fear that it would reinforce her resolve for him to leave. "I…," he swallowed hard again and a tear slipped down his cheek._

_Her hand was warm and gentle as she brushed it away, her eyes never leaving his, then cupped his cheek in her hand. She was silent, but the Doctor could see the emotions in her eyes, though she concealed them well._

_Sighing angrily in frustration with himself, the Doctor tightened his grip on her hand with both of his and lifted it, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. _

"_River, I just want—," the Doctor began again quickly, but the words refused to come forth. "I…can't…." He closed his eyes tightly, desperate to find the words, but opened them again as quickly as he had shut them. River was still staring down at him, her expression faltering. "River, I just want to tell you how I…ugh! I just…can't," he whispered._

_And he couldn't. He could not say the words that would be both his freedom and his damnation. If he said them, he would be sealing both their fates, the way that he had sealed the fates of so many before—but this was on so much larger a scale. But…his mind returned to the Library and the scene that had haunted him in his hours alone ever since that day played out in his mind, as though it were happening all over again and he buried his face into the flesh just above River's knees, clenching his eyes closed tightly._

_There she sat, wiring herself into CAL's mainframe, her expression determined, even as tears slipped down her cheeks—but not a trace of fear, save for no longer being with him, to be found. She spoke of their lives so cryptically, even in her last moments, following some rules that he had apparently set for them. But her words were so rife with emotion and her eyes so full of love and adoration that, even then, he had known that she would come to be someone like no other had ever been to him and he had feared it. And now here he was…struggling physically and mentally to say the words that she so deserved to hear. _

"_It's alright, Sweetie," River said gently, her hand stroking his hair gently. "You don't have to. You never have to."_

_The Doctor could hear the tears in her voice and the sound wrenched at his hearts and steeled his resolve. _

_This was a fate that he could not save her from because he dared not—he had promised her, even if he had not made the vow aloud. He dared not change one line—that was the curse that he had vowed to live with. However, he could do everything in his power to make every line as beautiful and as sincere as she deserved and give everything within himself to try and deserve her—he still had that. He admitted, regretfully, that he had done a miserable job of it in the past—his ignorance of who she was and his unfounded suspicion of her leading to so many choices that he regretted—but he had from this point onward, until it came time for her to go the Library._

"_Yes I do," he replied steadily, meeting her gaze to find unshed tears in her eyes. _

_The tears that had made their way past his own lids were cool as they dried on his cheeks and he set his jaw firmly, standing to his feet. Leaning over her, he took her face into his hands tenderly but resolutely and did not hesitate for permission before he overtook her lips with his own. The kiss was heated from the moment it began and this time it was the Doctor that sought permission to enter her mouth, which he was immediately granted as she kissed him back with only the slightest hesitancy and he relished the taste and feel of her tongue on his. _

_Slowly crawling onto the bed and kneeling over her with a knee on either side of her hips, the Doctor cupped the back of her neck in his hand and bent over her until she lay on her back, his lips never releasing hers and he could not help but to grin happily when her arms wrapped around his neck again. His other arm wound around her lower back and he lifted her, situating them both on the bed properly until he laid her back down and her head sank into a feather pillow, his lips following her every move._

"_Doctor," she moaned against his lips, but he swallowed her words and took her face in both hands, deepening the kiss even further. _

"_Let me be here for you," he halted her, barely audible as he continued to kiss her. "Please."_

_He felt River nod her consent after a moment of stillness and he swore that his chest felt as though it would cave in completely, so strong were the emotions that she sparked in him. _

"_River, I want to tell you this," he said, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against hers, his eyes boring into hers—desperate for her to feel his sincerity. "I want to say it now, so that you know that it's not just words spoken in the heat of the moment." He paused, taking a deep breath and steeling his resolve again. She deserved this, he reminded himself—and he wanted it so badly that it hurt. "River Song...you beautiful, maddening, amazing woman...I love you." He swallowed hard, feeling unbelievably out of breath with the effort of finally saying those words. "So very, very much. I love you."_

_River's eyes never left his, but they filled with tears and she lay silent beneath him for several moments and the Doctor's heart began to sink. She must have noticed, for just before he moved to pull away from her, she whispered his name. Not 'Doctor' or 'John Smith' or even 'Sweetie,' but his real, proper name and the Doctor almost fell against her. _

_Pressing his lips against hers and immediately taking her tongue with his demandingly, the Doctor ran his hands up her sides and broke the kiss only long enough to push her top and bra up and over her head before reclaiming her. His legs twitched involuntarily with pressure as her hands worked at his trousers, easily unfastening them and he could feel her pressing them and his pants down over his bum before jerking the restricting suspenders off of his shoulders and going to work on his shirt. Releasing his grip on her shoulders, the Doctor shuffled his trousers and pants down his legs and kicked them to the floor, then pulled his hands from his sleeves hurriedly when she urged them over his shoulders. _

_Breathing heavily, the Doctor fell against her, relishing the feel of her warm flesh against his. His lower stomach burned angrily when his arousal brushed against the heat between her thighs and his hand instinctively made their way to her legs, parting them. Kissing her hungrily, a hot pulsation coursed through him as a muffled shout escaped her when he entered her. Despite himself, he found himself smiling again as he swallowed down her cries of pleasure and pain and her hands flew to his bum, pulling him closer._

* * *

"_River," the Doctor said quietly, pulling her waist into him as she lay against him, her back to his chest, and the film of perspiration between them making him feel warm and heady. _

"_Yes, Sweetie?" she mumbled tiredly, turning her face to nuzzle into the crook of his neck and kissing him lightly._

"_Who would I call?" the Doctor asked, the fingers of his free hand tracing down her slowly as his eyes raked over her naked form before him, committing every centimeter to memory, yet again. "If for some reason I could not find you and did not know where to look—if you were in trouble, or something—who should I ask to help me?"_

"_As I am now?" River asked after several moments of silence and the Doctor instinctively knew that she was evading spoilers. _

"_Yes," the Doctor answered, kissing her sweaty brow. "As you are now…the River that I know. You."_

"_I have a friend—a professor at Luna University," River answered after a moment of contemplation and the Doctor felt a pang of sorrow for her. She really did have next to no one. "His name is Professor Candy. He has been a mentor, of sorts, and he visits me in prison regularly to bring me archeological articles and such and we discuss different theories in our field. He doesn't know much…but that's the closest that I've got."_

_The Doctor gulped heavily and tightened his grip on her waist possessively. "Who do you put as your emergency contact on documentation?" the Doctor asked with a forced laugh, his nerves wishing to alleviate the tension that he felt. _

"_I put you," River replied quietly, her hands pulling the arm that held her closer against her chest as she melted into him and the Doctor's chest burned. "I put you," she repeated slowly and the Doctor knew that it was more for her benefit than his._

* * *

Gasping for air desperately, the Doctor jumped to his feet and let the oxygen course through his lungs as though he were drowning. His entire being shook and he felt certain that his legs would fail him, but he could not let them.

_That's it!_ his mind screamed as he gripped the edge of one of his towering bookshelves to hold himself up. "That's it," he breathed, steadying himself briefly before pushing away from the shelf and stumbling to the door.

Gripping the knob, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the TARDIS door, then pressed a grateful kiss to the wall. "Thank you, old girl," he whispered sincerely.

Taking a short moment to steady himself, the Doctor ripped the door open then tore off down the long dark corridor, back to the control room. A part of his mind registered the sounds of Amy and Rory having a heated argument, but he could not find the means to care just then. He had a start.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked as the Doctor bounded into the console room and up to the console, his movements agitated and excited.

"Luna University," the Doctor replied, not looking up from his task at hand. "River has a friend there that I need to talk to."

"A friend that we can trust?" Rory asked emotionlessly, not moving from his place on one of the pilot chairs. "Because in case you two have forgotten, you're supposed to be dead."

"She told me once that, if anything should ever happen, he is the only other contact for her that I can trust," the Doctor answered, his tone betraying the aggravation that he attempted to conceal. "And I trust River's judgment. How could I not, after all we've been through?"

* * *

_Ok, so I struggled with this one quite a bit. I know that it's exceptionally long, but I couldn't bring myself to edit things out. The pieces just wouldn't have fit the same way in my head…welp, thanks for reading it! A chapter this long must have been quite a chore! As usual, please review and let me know what you think. Loved it, hated it, I would really appreciate knowing, either way. I'm pretty nervous about this one, so any suggestions or advice would be wonderful. Thank you!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, obviously…because if I did, we'd have a freaking full-length Doctor and River focused episode explaining Jim the Fish to the fullest extent! The BBC and Moffatt have the pleasure of getting to withhold that from us._

_Alrighty, first things first! Thanks so, so much for the reviews from People Person I'm Not, karolprado, Mr-Song-Mrs-Doctor, beixuu, Animus et Anima, and the Guest, and my other Guest! :D I really can't explain how much I appreciate the feedback; I was sincerely nervous about the last chapter, so that was greatly encouraging! Also, thanks so much for everyone that has favorited and/or followed this story! :)_

_Lastly, I sincerely apologize for taking so long to update! Real life got in the way and I just realized that it's been over a month! Please forgive my neglect!_

* * *

_A soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and River sighed contentedly, relaxing into the feel of the Doctor's gentle hands at her jaw. She could feel her heart beating rhythmically in her chest as she gazed up into those beautiful blue-green eyes that were so full joy—one of the rare moments when her Doctor truly let go of everything else and allowed himself to be whole-heartedly happy. _

"_Are you going to kiss me, or not, Sweetie?" she asked quietly, her grin turning mischievous._

_The Doctor gave a reproving tsk of his tongue and River laughed at the goofy grin that he could not keep from sliding over his features as his entire face lit up. "What would your parents say?" he asked, unable to maintain even a serious tone._

"_My mother would slap the back of your pretty head if you didn't kiss me," River answered truthfully. "And my father would make himself leave the room before he punched you if you did."_

"_Oh, Rory's seen me kiss you before," the Doctor replied smoothly, his face looming so very close to hers and his lips brushed her cheek, teasing her._

"_True," she replied, turning her face to catch his lips with hers, but he evaded and pressed his lips to her chin and she relished the feeling of his arms wrapping around her back and waist, pulling her into him. "But not a real kiss…not what you call a 'husbandy kiss,' Sweetie," she explained breathlessly and brushed her own lips to linger on his temple. "I don't want a playground, children's innocent little kiss…I want a 'husbandy kiss.'" _

"_Does that mean that I get a wifey kiss, then?" the Doctor asked quickly, his face suddenly pulling away from hers slightly so that he could look down at her with childlike excitement, his eyebrows raised high and his eyes sparkling with an underlying lustfulness. _

"_Yes, it does, Sweetie," River laughed, but his lips suddenly muffled her words as he covered her mouth with his own demandingly, all playfulness forgotten as she felt her mind go numb and he pulled her even closer, his weight falling on her as he lay on top of her and…._

"DOCTOR SONG! WAKE UP!"

Her mind jumped back to awareness and suddenly she was in pain, once more—more pain than she could remember ever being in. Razor-sharp pains shot through her head and she was only able to focus just enough to be thankful for the pitch black in which she lay. She quickly recalled her broken ribs when she felt as though someone had dropped a two ton weight on her ribcage and her arm felt as though it were being torn from her person completely.

Before she could even attempt to contain it, a muffled cried escaped her through clenched teeth and the sound pierced her own ears and sent a shot through her head.

"Doctor Song," the voice said again, but—thankfully—quieter this time. "Doctor Song…are you alright?"

River heard but her jumbled thoughts could scarcely comprehend and she was incapable of releasing the muscles in her clenched jaw even enough to answer. Squeezing her eyes closed tightly, a tear of pain escaped and River could feel the tension in every inch of her body seize up and she could hardly move.

The voice. She knew that voice…but, god, did she wish that it would shut up!

"Doctor Song!" it went on, its volume rising once more when there was no reply. "Are you there?"

"PLEASE! SHUT UP, ANITA!" River bellowed abruptly, quivering with the intensity of her pain and every syllable was another knife in her skull. "Please…," she begged again, barely above a whisper.

Obediently, Anita fell silent and River found that she was crying silently. Somehow, through all of the devastating pain wreaking havoc on her being, she could feel the cold trails of wetness making their ways down her cheeks and to the cold stone floor beneath her head.

_Memory_, she realized, mentally clinging the fibers of her dream that was slipping away so very quickly. _Dreaming_, she had to remind herself and a choked, but silent, sob escaped her.

She could remember that day as if it had only just happened. The Doctor, her parents, and herself had been traveling and the Doctor took them to a planet that she had never been to before, but it was known for its peaceful inhabitants and its magnificent landscape. They had decided to separate—she with the Doctor and Amy with Rory—and the Doctor had taken her hand as they snuck away and stealthily, albeit somewhat clumsily, lead her back to the TARDIS for just a few hours of precious time alone that they were so rarely able to have.

Every single look on the Doctor's face, his every touch, his every kiss, his every word—she could remember it all, but it was slipping away. The gracious fog that had clouded her mind as she had dreamt, blocking out the pain and the reality of her current situation, was clearing and the weight of it all came crashing down around her. God, why did she have to dream! Why did she have to remember! Those were thoughts for normal days in Stormcage, when those blissful memories distracted her from the torturous emotional pain of incarceration…not for days like this. This was _too _painful. She had so few of those completely untainted memories and it was devastating to have them tainted by _this_…this pain and agony.

Try as she might, River could not contain the tears or the small, gasping sobs that shot a wave of pain through her every time her chest and abdomen contracted. Yet, somehow, the pain eventually faded ever so slightly and came second to her racing thoughts.

She remembered the shower room, Mason and Charlie, she and Anita's capture at Stormcage, and Mason dislocating her arm. She remembered his violating grabbing and the anger when she bit him. She remembered Baby-Face and Mason calling her Pond—and she remembered the horrible realization of knowing who was behind all of this.

Of course, she had not let on at the time, but the reality that she had once again been bested by them was all too intimidating. More importantly, it should have been _impossible_. How could they know? The Doctor had erased himself from every database in the universe and she _knew _that, for a fact—she had helped.

"Doctor Song?" Anita's voice whispered so quietly that River was not certain, at first, if she had actually heard it.

"I'm sorry, Anita," River replied instantly, the words costing her, but the severity of her pain now enough to handle.

"It's alright," Anita answered and River could almost hear the forced smile of a frightened but brave young lady in her quivering voice. "I was just…I must have been giving you a headache."

River inwardly cringed at Anita's self-depreciating words, but she could not muster the strength to argue just then.

"I heard them earlier," Anita explained, her voice soft, as though she were afraid that the mere sound of her voice may cause River some pain—a fear that was not unfounded. "When they were…hurting you. I know that Mason and Charlie were there. I…I'm really sorry that I didn't say anything, but…but I don't think that they realize that we can talk. I didn't want them to know because then they would move one of us and we'd be alone."

"It's alright, Anita," River assured her, closing her eyes firmly and mentally compartmentalizing herself, tucking the pain into the back of her mind and forcing herself to ignore it. "You did well...but I'm sure that they'll realize that were next to each other eventually."

"No, we're—we're not next to each other," Anita replied and River opened her eyes, momentarily forgetting the shot of pain that it would cause. "I…I think that I'm either below or above you."

Forcing herself to function through the fiery shooting pains in her head, River blinked hard and struggled to see through the darkness until she spotted the smallest glare of a metal vent in the wall that she was lying next to, near the ceiling. Listening, she realized that that was most certainly where Anita's voice was coming from.

"I could hear everything, but it sounded kind of…farther away than if it were right beside me," Anita went on.

"Is the air vent near the floor?" River asked to confirm what she had deduced.

"Yes."

"You're above me," River answered, pushing what remnants of her dream that remained away and trying her best to forget them until another time. Despite the searing pain that participating in it caused, she took advantage of the conversation to distract herself. "The vent is near the ceiling in here. Anita," she went on seriously, her mind suddenly turning to more important matters. "Are you hurt? Have they harmed you?"

"Na," Anita answered and River inwardly gave a sigh of relief. "When I woke up, some skinny baby-faced kid was trying to feed me soup."

"Ah, Baby-Face," River replied, surprising herself when she managed a half grin at the thought of her initial impression of the young cleric. "We met…well, I say met—."

"Doctor, those were clerics that took us," Anita observed, jumping to the topic that River had secretly been hoping to avoid. "I know that they didn't actually want me…but why would they want you? I mean…here. We already had you in Stormcage."

River breathed deeply and thought about her answer carefully before she spoke. They would almost certainly have their rooms under surveillance and she could only explain so much without giving herself away. Honestly, she would much rather remain silent…but Anita was in this situation for trying to protect her—she could not leave her entirely in the dark.

"They were clerics, yes," River explained, pushing all emotion into its own neat little mental compartment. "But clerics under a 'different command,' if you understand. Not just any everyday military cleric, but clerics belonging to a religious order called the Silence."

"Well, why do they want you?"

"I can only imagine one reason," River explained, a new thought dawning on her as she spoke mechanically, her mind becoming somewhat detached as a new fear gripped at her hearts and hindered her ability to breath. "They believe that I can give them information on a dead man that they refuse to believe is dead."

_A dead man that had been stay the hell away from this place! _River mentally raged, feeling as though she were screaming inside.

He could not come here. No matter what, he could _not_! Yet, she knew her husband too well to even entertain the idea that he would accept that.

She could hear Anita speaking, but it seemed to be from some distance far away. The severity of her thoughts seized her and the pain that she had pushed away from her awareness enveloped her once more and River struggled, but barely managed to pull herself into a sitting position against the wall behind her. She could not allow him to come to this place…wherever this place was. But how could…?

_Paper, _she grasped and resolution filled her mind.

Closing her eyes, yet again, it took several long minutes for her to clear her mind of the insufferable pain and her own torturous thoughts enough to concentrate on the one task that she hoped to achieve. It took _so _much focus and the effort of just that taxed her physically.

The pain, the sounds of Anita speaking and the agonized screams and cries that could be heard in the distance, everything faded away into nothingness as River's mind shut down for what seemed an eternity—every vestige of her consciousness focused on one sole purpose.

What must have been some long moments later, her consciousness returned and her mind snapped back to awareness and River fell, her entire body screaming in agony. Her head crashed into the stone floor as she fell on her side and blessed unconsciousness took her, once more.

* * *

"_Sweetheart," the Doctor whispered, his breath tickling the fine curls at her ear and River gave a breathy smile. "I think you owe me a wifey kiss, dear…."_

* * *

The Doctor clapped his hand over his inner breast pocket when his subconscious alerted him and he reached into his jacket to snatch the psychic paper from where he felt it burning a hole in his pocket. He could feel the TARDIS shudder slightly around him and could hear the mechanical whirring of her landing, but he did not follow Amy and Rory to the door. Stepping around the console, he hid himself from view and flipped the paper open and read.

_I know that you must know by now, Sweetie. Please, I beg you not to come here. Doctor, you _cannot _come here. You know who they are as well as I and you know that I am right. I love you, so very much…with everything in me, Doctor, I will give anything if you promise not to come here. _

The Doctor froze—unable to breath…unable to think—as his mind momentarily went black with fury. He could feel himself shaking and the sharp pain, like a knife being plunged into his gut.

"What is it, Doctor?" Amy asked, turning at the door to look back at him when he did not follow.

His vision returned at the sound of her voice and he found Amy and Rory staring back at him.

Swallowing down the razors in his throat, he shoved the psychic paper back into his jacket and focused all of the thought that he could afford onto pressing onward—he could not let go, not now.

Ignoring Amy's question, he rounded the console with heated determination, but before he could descend the steps, he kicked the metal handrail with an uncontrollable rage and a animalistic bellow tore from his chest.

"RIVER SONG!" he shouted angrily, briefly forgetting Amy and Rory's presence as his fists collided with the console as he pounded them painfully against its surface, breaking off several pieces. "I CANNOT! YOU ASK TOO MUCH, THIS TIME! I CANNOT GIVE YOU THIS! AND…," he raged, but, once again, he felt the presence of another consciousness take his mind as the TARDIS calmed him and he returned to himself. "And…forgive me."

"Doctor, what—?" Rory began heatedly, but the Doctor ignored him.

Striding past them both, the Doctor pushed through the TARDIS door without a word and stepped foot into a towering hall crowded with students of Luna University.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading and please review and let me know what you think._


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